History in the Making
by ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo
Summary: Since the beginning of time, there's always been the four of them. Their appearance, names, and genders have changed but their story remains the same... One unrequited love, one lovestruck couple, and a rebel who wants equality. When will the pattern change? E/É and *obviously* M/C.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story… I swear… Warning! There will be gender!reverals! Only on a few, so don't get your panties in a wad ;) **

**I've played around a little with history, so I'm sorry if not all of this is true. I ****_tried, _****but what can ya do?**

* * *

_Since the beginning of time, there's always the four of them. Their appearance, names, and genders have changed but their story remains the same. One such tale happened forty-seven years before the birth of Christ…_

The young woman bit her lip to keep from exploding. She was seventeen and quite intelligent- more than capable of handling the throne _by herself_. Of course, her younger brother seemed quite intent to rule alongside her. Or, even worse, _instead _of her.

He seemed ready to go to war over the argument, and as she sat thinking by the river, she knew that it was a war that she would win.

* * *

She was beautiful. A dark angel sent by the gods to capture his heart and squeeze everything out of it. She treated him with a friendly coolness, and he endured it. Anything for her. Even when she wrote him of the battle against her brother, he took her side although she was in the wrong. He fought alongside her, desperate to protect her from harm.

He was an esteemed man, though he lived a dark life. No one spoke to him about anything but military plans or political issues, and his entire existence seemed to be glazed over with ice. He was the first emperor of Rome, and this Egyptian queen was his light in the dark.

* * *

She warmed up to him; he could almost believe that she loved him. He knew in his heart that she only ran away with him as an excuse to prevent her incestuous arranged marriage. He knew in his heart that she could never truly love him as he loved her. He refused to believe it, even when he introduced a dashing warrior to his beloved. He saw the rosy hue to both their cheeks, and he thought that his pain was _almost_ worth her smile.

He left his palace, thinking sadly of his angel and how her dark wings brought her everywhere but his arms. In the courtyard, he overheard a zealous voice that sounded like a song. As he peered from around a column, he focused on the young girl's voice. He could tell from her clothing that she was a patrician, and yet she was sitting among his servants and speaking to them as if they were equals.

He shook his head and continued on, his thoughts plagued now by both women.

* * *

He received a letter around midday from a servant who claimed the letter was from his beloved, instructing him to meet her in the forum. He obliged quickly, not wishing to keep her waiting. As he arrived, he noticed that the space was strangely empty. And she was nowhere in sight.

He looked down; it was then that he saw the blade protrude from his stomach. A searing pain followed, burning his abdomen and staining his tunic. He groaned in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. The great leader collapsed to his knees and looked up with shaky vision. The faces that swam before his eyes were familiar; they were people that he trusted.

Soon the footsteps left his motionless body alone on the red-stained marble floor. As if from a faraway distance, he heard her heartbroken scream and her sobs. He was aware that she was bent over him in misery. And that was enough for a small smile to grace his face. After all, the pain really wasn't that bad.

* * *

Some time later, the young soldier took over Rome, and took the queen to his bed. They faced protests to their relationship from the Roman senate, but neither of them could find time to care. They were in each others' arms, and that was enough for the moment.

* * *

As for the charming patrician girl? She had a mouth that she never quite knew when to keep shut. She stood up for a beaten slave in the street, and her father was so angry with her that his fists brought around her death that night. As the pain became too much to bear, she managed to smile, thinking that the afterlife would be a place where everyone would be equal.

She never saw that after life.

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**A/N: I don't even know what I'm doing with this. In case you couldn't catch on:**

**Marius was Cleopatra (I don't know why, but I think this is the funniest thing ever), Cosette was Marc-Anthony and Enjolras was some random rich girl who was trying to rouse up the servants.**

**The next two will occur in famous love triangles (with Enjolras just awkwardly trying to change things). Can you guess what the next one will be? *hint* Enjolras will be old and fat and Cosette and Marius will face some issues in trying to get together... Eponine will be rich. This one will be gender reversed, except for Enjy. He'll be a guy just so that he fits in with "history". (it's a work of famous fiction)**


	2. Chapter 2

_One of their other stories, one of the more tragic ones, occurred around 1300..._

He saw her for the first time across the square. She was donning the rich colors of her family crest: red and gold, and the world seemed to fade around her; the beautiful Verona scenery was merely the oyster that cradled this beauty. She took no notice of him.

She first heard of him through the wall as her mother and father talked of their possible arranged marriage. What a terrible way for his love to first _see_ him! However, he heard from her mother that she said that she would try to love him. That was as much as he could hope for.

Her family arranged a party, a ball for her to dance with him and discover his love for her. He felt much like a woman, but he spent nearly an hour ensuring that his clothes and his hair were acceptable. He felt the heat rising to his cheeks as he approached her house.

Cheerful music filled the entry way, and the girl's mother made her way to him and greeted him warmly. She took his arm and whisked him further inside the house. Along the way, she began telling him of her daughter and how the girl was looking forwards to meeting him. His heart raced; could it be true?

* * *

He shared but a dance with her before she was swept away from him by a charming dandy in a mask. He thought nothing of it.

She was never his to lose, but he was convinced to change that.

Little did he know that he'd already lost her.

The old priest agreed to help the two of them; the rebellious girl and the love-struck dandy. He wed them naught a day after they met, hoping, _praying_ that this act would cease the street war between the feuding houses.

It was the only reason he heeded to their begging. Personally, he thought little of love. He was married to the church and to the people he served. His Patria.

* * *

The marriage was pushed up considerably by her father, who was annoyed with her constant weeping over her cousin's death and her refusal to marry the rich man. The young man was quite fine by it, looking forwards to the thought of having the lovely girl as his bride. He ran into her by the friar's cell as she was going to confession. He begged her to stop mourning; she was far too pretty for tears to constantly be present in her perfection. She'd given him a wan smile in return and asked him to leave so that she could speak to the friar in peace.

* * *

She was never his to lose.

Then why did he feel this pain like a knife? It struck through his core and he was very nearly reduced to a weeping heap on the ground as her nurse told them the news. His fair bride was gone; in the night her despair had overtaken her and robbed her of life. Her rosy cheeks and cherry lips were devoid of color, reduced to the tone of ashes. Her thin wrists bore no pulse and her limbs hung limp and frail off the edge of the bed. He knelt beside her and took her hand in his, fighting back tears. He loved her. Oh, how he loved her.

* * *

He snuck in that night for a last glimpse of her. Her tomb was sparsely decorated and she laid next to her dead cousin. The rose in his hand seemed to wilt in the presence of the gloomy chamber. He clutched it tight to his heart as he carefully removed her shroud. There she was, her dark hair spread about her head and her long lashes tickling her cheekbones as she lay in eternal rest. He carefully placed the rose on her breast and stood apart from her, his tears finally leaving his eyes.

Then a noise alerted him and the young man turned, only to come face-to-face with her cousin's disheveled killer. Shocked and angry that he would dare make an appearance so soon after the death of this young girl, the man drew his sword, shocked that the other one did the same.

There they fought, their blades crossing and slashing over her lifeless body. One of the killer's hits found the young man's side and he collapsed, clutching a hand to his bleeding chest. He looked up in the face of the other man and saw emotion akin to his. Perhaps his bride was loved by more than just him. In his last breath, the bridegroom looked at the other and asked to be laid beside her.

The lovers, the two youths from feuding houses, died in each other's arms in that tomb, with the third wheel to their chariot lying forgotten on the floor.

The old priest was moved by this display, and disgusted. His desire for change was thwarted. _Next time_. He thought as he commanded the funeral service for the two young men. _Next time._

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**A/N: Here's another one! The one right after this is the LAST gender reversal! I promise :) Now... I love you followers and favoriters, but can I get a review or two?!**

**Eppy dearest was Paris, Marius was Juliet (Another funny one), Romeo was Cosette (they're both silly little rich kids who never stay hooked on one thing for too long), and Enjy was Friar Lawrence (HAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHA)**

**I was reading Romeo and Juliet in class and I realized how bad I felt for Paris... So, this happened.**

**REVIEW!**

**(Oh, and I'm also not going to update until my other story, Shadow in the Sun, gets 20 reviews. Check it out? It's in the book fandom, but it's understandable even if you haven't read the brick.)**


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